HalfBreed Lifemate
by Deer-Shifter
Summary: Only a few half-breeds, the product of a Methuselah and Terran mating, have ever been born, including the child of Gyula Kadar, Kamaria. Can she find true happiness with the lifemate who never finished their bond? Or will Radu be torn from her?
1. Mother's Promise

Disclaimer/Author's Note:

It's been more than three years since I finished my first fanfiction. When I found out about Trinity Blood a year ago, I wondered, why had Radu really joined the Orden in the first place? What would life be like if Gyula and Maria had a child, a half-breed accepted by neither side? Thus Kamaria was born. I own nothing but her; all else is copyrighted by original creator of TB.

**Chapter One: Mother's Promise**

_It was late out that night when Mother didn't come home._

_This wasn't unusual for her to not come home until very late, particularly on the holidays when she'd go down and bring the candy to the children of Istavan. Or enquire of a busy housewife if her child was any better._

_But this night it was different._

_There'd been a fever in our city for three months. Father had ordered me confined to the castle when it began. Perfectly fine with me. I didn't want to go out, not after my best friend Hans was one of the first deaths._

_Perhaps that was why I was worried. That morning, when she had told us she was going out there to deliver medicine, I burst into tears. Highly unusual. My parents were shocked. I flew to her and clutched her around the skirts._

"_Mama, don't go!" I wailed. "You'll never come back to me; you'll leave me and Papa, just like Hans!"_

_My father flinched. Mother shook her head, and bent down to my face, swollen with crying. "I won't get sick, dear. I've had the vaccine. So have you."_

"_The vaccine is experimental, Maria," Papa reminded her. "If you must go, promise you will be careful. I've heard there is unrest in the city."_

"_I will be fine, love. I will come back to you and Kamaria both. I promise." She kissed him, then tilted my chin up. "Listen, Kamaria. Do you know why you are named that? Do you know what Kamaria means?"_

_I shook my head, still tearful._

"_It means 'like the moon.' No matter what, my little moon, I will make my way back to you and Papa in our castle of the night. I promise. Here." She removed her necklace, a round green stone set in a dark metal on a ribbon and placed it around my neck. "Keep this safe for me until I come back, okay?"_

_I clutched the jewel, stared at it for a moment, then nodded. "I will take it off when you return, mama."_

_I have never removed the necklace since that night. _

………………………………………………

Count Gyula Kadar went out in the morning to the church of St. Matthias and inquired of the sister if his wife had stayed the night. There had been a bad storm the night before, which might have excused her from not coming home. The sister told him that she had not seen Maria, but the medicine had been found placed on the doorstep.

Maria, however, had always made such deliveries in person. Something was wrong.

The Count went home, pale and worried, to find his silvery-haired daughter, small enough to be three years younger than she actually was, waiting for him. Her face became confused when she saw Maria was not with him, changing when he told her her mother was missing.

"You'll find her, right, Papa?" Kamaria asked, worried. When people went missing, her papa could usually find them if he tried. But he looked so upset.

"I'll do my best, sweetheart," Gyula told her, not willing or ready to explain the sick feeling in his gut.

"You—you mean you're not sure you can? Papa, what happened? Where is she?"

"I don't know, Kamaria. I have to find that out first."

Looking back, Kamaria wished she'd kissed her mother more, been better behaved, learned more from her. But it was such a short time—she was only ten.

By the time three months were gone, Kamaria knew her mother wasn't coming back.

………………………………………………

After that, the half-Methuselah sort of raised herself. Kamaria studied as hard as she could, learning every language of the remains of Europe and of the new Empire. She became a computer programmer, learning Lost Technology and many other different branches of the cyberworld. She made it a special point to learn as much as she could about healing and surviving. And of course, about both Methuselahs and Terrans.

One thing that particularly worried both her father and her was how late her power would awaken. Blood tests had showed that Kamaria had the virus, but in a different stage than her father's. They had no idea how soon her power would awaken. Or in what form. Would she even be able to handle it?

Only time would tell.

………………………………………………

Kamaria was sixteen when she made the decision to go to the Empire. Her power had still not awakened, and she was getting worried. Only two other half-breeds were on record at having survived to this age. There was still no sign for her; hell, she didn't even know what kind of sign to expect!

Her father, of course, was not happy with her decision. And he liked it even less when Kamaria told him she wanted to investigate the place on her own.

"Until your power awakens, you may well fall into danger with no way out," he warned.

"You have to let me grow up sometime," she answered. "Besides, the Empire will have the best technology and coverage about something like this. And I want to know what the outside world is like! I want to make friends without them being some kind of alliance. I want to _live_."

Gyula never completely agreed to that journey, but he seemed to realize at last that this was something his daughter needed to do. He gave her some money and a large supply of blood pills, and taught her what things she would need to know to prove who she was if she needed to get the Empress or the boyars to help her.

Kamaria set off early one morning after saying goodbye to her father, carrying his gifts and some food and wearing her mother's necklace under a high-collared traveling coat.

Neither of them could know that it would be the last time they'd see each other.

………………………………………………

Two months later, Kamaria arrived in Empire Territory. She didn't know how she knew she had, but she did.

One final recheck of her supplies and Kamaria began the climb uphill. Maybe now she'd finally get to see what was happening. The Empire was always a mystery to her. But now she'd finally get to see it…

Her vision went black, then normal.

What?

Kamaria frowned, passing a hand across her eyes.

Then the sky went dark, and she felt herself collapse, becoming unconscious just as unbearable pain wracked her body.

………………………………………………

As the sun was going down, two figures rode down the path on horseback. The light was now faint enough so that they didn't have to worry about the UV rays affecting them.

Ion Fortuna and Radu Barvon were taking a well-deserved break at the Earl's country house. Radu, after finally awakening two years ago, had inherited his father's position as Baron of Ludor. Since then, he had to deal with his responsibilities as a newly full-fledged Boyar without a break.

Worried about his friend's health, Radu had pleaded with the Empress, who had allowed him to drag Radu away from his desk for three months of undisturbed, untroubled fun. Hopefully, when he came back, he'd be able to deal with things more easily.

For now, they would be boys again, racing over the hills. Ion laughed as he moved to kick his horse into a gallop, just as the animal reared up, neighing loudly. Fortunately his training kicked in and he didn't fall off.

Seeing what had happened, Radu reigned in his own steed. "What's the matter?" he called out, dismounting.

"Something on the path ahead," Ion told him, also swinging down. "It frightened Dancer."

Radu looked in front of them to notice a small dark shape. He frowned. One of the reasons they had chosen to ride this way was that there were usually no people and few animals around at this time of day.

He stepped forward, and gasped in shock as the moonlight shifted from behind a cloud to expose a slender, petite silver-haired girl.

"Who on earth—" Ion whispered, also seeing the girl for the first time.

Radu stared at the girl, wondering who she was. She did not wear the usual clothes of the Empire—quite the opposite in fact. Running through his class lessons, he quickly identified the clothes as those worn by Romanian or Hungarian Terran males. But never could this girl be a Terran, not with hair the same color of the moonshine.

Kneeling, he placed a hand on her forehead, and gasped at how warm it was. No question about it, she was sick and running a high fever.

Looking up at his friend, he raised his eyebrows.

Ion nodded. "We'd better take her back."

"Ion…I think she's Awakening."


	2. Pursuing Negotiators

Sorry for taking so long with this--I was away at writing camp. Lots of fun. Anyway, hope you like!

Also, I'm looking for a beta reader for this. Send me a PM or mention in a review if you're interested? Thanks!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

**Chapter Two: Pursuing Negotiators**

"Are you certain about this, Brother Abel?" The silver-haired healer pushed her locks behind her ears and gazed at Abel, surprised.

The man she had addressed could indeed have been her older brother, with his matching hair and nearly-same blue eyes. But while Abel's were a clouded summer sky's shade, Kamaria's were midnight blue, though both could turn icy in an instant.

Abel was not the healer's biological brother anyway. Most people addressed him as 'Father', but he and Kamaria preferred a sister-brother relationship. As such, though not ordained herself, Kamaria addressed the priest as 'Brother'.

"As sure as I'm sure your tunic is green, Kitten," came his mild-mannered reply, ignoring her return growl. For reasons unknown, the healer did not appreciate being compared to a Cat. _Ever._

Unlike many of the Vatican female employees, Kamaria did not wear the nun's uniform. Skirts, she claimed, were a hassle in battle, and in any case, white stained easily. And Kamaria had a penchant for getting her clothes stained. An accomplished doctor, she had saved the lives of people considered to be beyond help more than once.

Some cases, however, she would not take on. A good example would be the time Brother Petros of the Inquisition suggested she try to invent a cure for the Bacillus virus. No one had doubted that she would be capable of taking on the task.

Kamaria, however, had given him a polite but forceful 'no.' She refused to meddle in something that had been a part of people for so long. That fell under her definition of 'playing God.'

No one asked her again.

In any case, skirts had an alarming tendency to get stained around Kamaria, whether they were hers or not. So she clad herself in a healer's green tunic-smock and a boy's trousers and shirt. Add a large knapsack, organized full of herbs and other medical supplies, several concealed weapons, and Kamaria was ready go.

And now, they were on what might well be the most important mission of her and Abel's employment in the Vatican—a mission that might well cause their side's downfall if it was discovered.

The public story was that a Methuselah had attacked Cardinal Sforza just after a bomb had gone off in the embassy, but she had been narrowly saved by enforcement officer Tres Iquus. In actuality, the Methuselah had not attempted to harm the Cardinal, but Tres had attacked believing her in danger—a natural idea after the bombing just minutes before. Cardinal Catherine Sforza had confided later that she believed the 'attacker' to actually be a messenger from the Empire. Someone had to find him, and quickly, before he returned to his home with news of betrayal.

Kamaria's heart thudded at the thought of contacting someone from the Methuselah again. If only she could somehow find a way to ask about…

No. She couldn't think about him. She couldn't.

"Something wrong, Kamaria?"

"Hmm?" She blinked, and found Abel worriedly peering at her, waving a hand in front of his face.

"You've been staring off into space for the last two minutes," Sister Esther Blanchette informed her. The newly ordained nun had hit it off quickly with Kamaria, and often spent long hours talking with her in their native Hungarian.

"Oh, never mind that, Esther. Just going through a mental checklist. Now, where are we going? Do you have a lead on the whereabouts, Abel?"

Abel grinned, and pulled out a map. Placing it down, he pointed out two positions on it. One was their current location. The other was the headquarters of an old dummy company.

………………………………………………

"…The wound will heal soon, Ion."

Radu smiled quietly as he tied off the bandage, clipping it in an oddly familiar gesture.

Ion grumbled, muttering under his breath about the humiliation of being shot by Terrans, and then being bedridden from the injury.

"You were lucky," Radu informed him. "A shade to the left and it would have struck your heart."

Ion gasped. "Was that metal marionette really so skilled as to be a danger?" His face reddened in anger that he had even considered such a thing. "No chance! He fired at random without skill!" Punching the pillow to emphasize his point, he yelped a second later as the punch aggravated his shoulder.

Shaking his head, Radu chuckled. "You know who would be standing over you yelling at us both now if she were here?"

Ion grimaced. "How could I forget? You act almost the same way now. Sometimes I wonder who taught who first aid."

Radu laughed, but his heart wasn't in it.

………………………………………………

"Are you sure that was wise, Abel? Leaving Esther behind?" Kamaria frowned, straining out her senses. Somehow the healer was uneasy.

"We aren't allowed to involve any nonsenior members of AX in this mission, Kamaria. Secrecy is vital, and the only reason an exception is being made in your case is because everyone trusts you to hold your tongue and heal anyone who's hurt. Besides, once you heard a Methuselah was hurt, you requested to be involved. Esther, on the other hand, still hates many Methuselah, I fear."

"I know. So many of the short-lived race do." The healer sighed as she followed him. "I wish that could change…"

"Me, too. Someday…" Abel's voice had a slightly bitter taint—very unusual for him.

"Well, we've no time now to dwell on someday. We're almost there. Let's go in…and finish this." Kamaria forced herself to switch back to practicality.

They were barely inside the door however, when they heard a howl from upstairs.

"TERRAN!"

"Curses. Are the Inquisition already here?" Abel gasped as he dashed upstairs, Kamaria one step behind.

"No, I can't feel them around here. But there are at least two Methuselah and one normal Terran in here besides us…Not that we count as normal Terrans, do we…"

Even in the heat of fear and a pounding heart, Abel had to chuckle at Kamaria's usual irony.

"For the last time." An icy cold voice came from the room up ahead of them as the pair jerked to a silent stop. "Terran. Put down your weapon."

"No, _you_ put down your weapon," Abel declared, cocking his pistol and placing it at the Methuselah's forhead. Mentally, Kamaria cursed that she could not see over or past her tall friend into the room as he continued. "If you throw that knife, I will do something horrible to you. Something _very_ horrible!"

"F-Fa-ther!" stammered an all too familiar voice. _Idiotic newbie…_

"It's all right, Esther," Abel smiled over the Methuselah's shoulder, cocking the index finger of his free left hand in a you-come-here gesture.

Kamaria heard someone getting up and stepping forward with clicking high heels and swishing skirts. "Father, these two are Boyars—Nobles of the Empire. We should take them in for questioning."

"Would you excuse me a moment?" Abel inquired of the Methuselah next to him, stepping forward to meet the nun. "Miss Esther—"

_Slap!_

It was a mild punishment often reserved for disobedient, excited newbies who didn't know how to obey orders. Kamaria had had it happen to her twice in the past. Each time, she had tried to go after a fallen comrade to bring them in for healing.

"I am certain I told you to wait for us outside. So, not only did you disobey me, but you also engaged in hostile actions. Who taught you to act this way?"

Taking this as her cue to enter, Kamaria ducked under Abel's arm and moved past him into the room. The abashed nun, her hand on the abused cheek, appeared quite sheepish and confused.

Kamaria shook her head, moving past the girl to her presumed patient, the Methuselah groaning on the floor, and gazed disapprovingly at his condition. "Esther, I'm surprised at you. How could—"

Kamaria suddenly stopped speaking. Her face went white as she stared at the Methuselah. "_ION?!_ Then…"

Spinning, she faced Abel and the male by his side.

"Radu…"

The blue-haired ifrit stared at her in equal shock. "Kamaria…"

The healer started, her expression shifting back into a blank mask. "It's been a while, Baron of Luxor, Earl of Memphis. I see you haven't changed a bit when it comes to getting yourselves into scrapes."

"Sister Kamaria, you know them?!" Esther was shocked.

"_Sister?!_" Ion shouted, incredulously.

"It's _Healer_, Esther, not _Sister_," sighed the green-garbed girl, staring upward in exasperation. "I told you, I'm not a member of the Vatican. I just treat anyone who needs it and tries to keep things diplomatic. And yes, I do know them—or I thought I did, anyway."

She turned away and knelt on the floor next to Ion. "Carry on, Abel. This Methuselah needs some more treatment. Though you've done an admirable job, Radu Barvon."

"Kamaria, what are you doing here?!" Ion exclaimed.

"At the moment," she retorted, "I am _trying_ to heal a very ungrateful and uncooperative Methuselah. Now hold still, boyo." Carefully, she moved forward and began to unwind the bandages around his shoulder.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," spat the Earl. "Why are you here with the Vatican—ow!!"

"Stop yelling out proofless accusations or I'll make it hurt a lot worse. Now shut up, you big baby, and let me take care of that. As for your question, I am here because Father Tres Iquus confirmed that he'd wounded an intruder the night before and we wanted to make sure you survived to negotiations. Besides, I wanted to know what was happening in the Empire. Oh my, this is pretty nasty. Here, let's put something on it to prevent the gangrene infecting it." Reaching into a side pocket on her bag, Kamaria pulled out a tin of lotion and began to gently apply it to the wound.

"Kamaria, you know them?" Abel's voice had lost some of the shock, but not all of it.

"I do, Abel. They are very trustworthy friends. I can see why the Empress chose them to send on the mission. Oh, by the way, Radu, you aren't allowed to set me on fire while I'm treating Ion."

"Hey!" protested the ifrit. "I don't set people on fire!"

Ion laughed. "She's just getting a rise out of you, Radu."

"Oh, I don't know," purred the healer, wrapping a bandage around his shoulder. "I seem to recall him threatening to singe my hair if I tried to get out of bed before I was fully healed."

"Did you really, Radu? I don't recall that," Ion chuckled.

"Do you two have anything at all to do other than roast me?" growled the ifrit, stalking over to them.

"Well…" Kamaria stood up. "There is one thing I owe to you both, after that time."

Before either male could react, she gave each of them a kiss on the cheek.

"That's for friendship and gratitude," she declared over their sputtering. "All right, Ion, you can get up now. I'm finished with you."

Turning to Esther and Abel, she sighed. "I suppose I owe you guys a bit of an explanation. Unfortunately, I don't think we have enough time for one as complete as I'd like. We need to get these two to Cardinal Caterina so they can do their negotiating and we can send them home under the Inquisition's nose."

Abel nodded. "Right. But then you owe all of us an extra big explanation. All I knew was who your parents were and that you'd visited the Empire, nothing like this—"

"Ion." Radu's eyes flicked toward the window as a dull, guttural roaring picked up in Kamaria's ears.


End file.
